


Dance

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-18
Updated: 2010-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 08:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn Tully's attempt to spend time with her betrothed Brandon Stark at the Harrenhal Tourney is interrupted by her childhood friend Petyr Baelish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance

"You promised me the first dance of the evening," Petyr said.

Catelyn did not remember making any such promise. "I _can't_," she said, easing her hand out of Petyr's grip. It was only proper that she dance first with her betrothed Brandon Stark. Besides, while Petyr was a dear friend, he was a mere boy still, and Catelyn was a woman grown. Petyr was an acceptable partner at home, but here at the greatest tourney in the realm, it would be foolish of her to waste the chance to become acquainted with great knights and lords who ruled the lands and fought the wars.

"I'll dance with you, Petyr," Lysa said. Gone were any traces of sadness at losing Jaime Lannister to Aerys's Kingsguard. Lysa's pretty face was aglow with excitement.

Petyr was not tempted. He continued to look mournfully at Catelyn. "Cat, please."

Catelyn turned away from him. She could see the heir to Winterfell making his way towards their table. "Look, there's Brandon now."

Petyr threw a hostile glare in Brandon's direction and took Lysa off to the dance floor rather than waiting to meet him.

"My lady," Brandon bowed to her. "You look lovely. Will you do me the honor of a dance?"

It was only a courtesy, but Catelyn's heart beat a little faster. She was not vain, but the most beautiful ladies in the Seven Kingdoms were here and any young woman would want to hear that she was not overlooked in their shadow.

"I will surely be unhorsed and knocked senseless in my first tilt if you don't give me your favor tomorrow."

Catelyn had packed a new scarf for just that purpose. It was red and blue, the colors of her house, embroidered with a silver trout.

"No lady could be so unmerciful as to deny you. However I warn you that you shall not be the only man jousting with my favor," she teased.

Brandon grinned. "Tell me the names of my rivals and I'll challenge them this very night."

"The esteemed Lord Hoster and the great Ser Brynden."

"Ah. Then I must confess that my heart is not yours alone. Another lady commands it at this feast."

She was certain he was referring to his sister Lyanna, but nonetheless she felt a twinge of uneasiness. However she didn't let it diminish her smile. "Is she fairer than me?"

"I fell in love the first time I saw her."

They turned as the steps of the dance required, and Brandon pointed to the table the Starks had been given. His sister and his youngest brother were speaking with a little crannogman. His other brother was staring off into the distance where Princess Elia and her ladies sat.

"My heart is broken, my lord. I cannot compete with such beauty."

Suddenly serious, Brandon's smile faded. "Robert swears he loves her, yet he sits drinking and groping the serving women when they bring him more wine."

Catelyn could hear the storm lord's drunken laughter booming above the music. She counted herself lucky that her betrothed was not that sort of man. "It will be different when they marry," she said, trying to reassure Brandon, though she didn't believe it.

They spoke of inconsequential things until the dance ended. Then Brandon kissed her hand and told her he would seek her out later. Before Catelyn could make it back to her table she was accosted by Lord Mallister. She also danced with a lord from the Reach and her uncle Ser Oswell Whent. When she took a moment to rest her feet and enjoy a cup of cool summerwine, Petyr immediately appeared, an annoyed Lysa trailing behind him.

"Cat, you _must_ dance with me now."

"Perhaps later, Petyr. Lord Royce has already claimed me next."

"Petyr, let's go back." Lysa tried tugging Petyr's hand, but he didn't budge.

Catelyn frowned. Had Lysa been with Petyr all this time? Now that Jaime Lannister could not marry, their lord father would need to make another match for Lysa. Lysa should have used this opportunity to find some likely prospects. Lord Hoster would take her preferences into consideration, provided the men were suitable. But when Catelyn gently pointed this out, she was met with sullen silence.

Prince Rhaegar sang then, and everyone fell quiet and still to listen to him. Though the crowd's deference was in part because he was the heir to the Iron Throne, he had a truly beautiful voice. His sad songs changed the mood of the feast. Catelyn saw ladies dabbing tears from their eyes and lords holding their ladies.

However it didn't take long for things to become merry again, not when Lord Whent was so generous with the wine. Bronze Yohn swung Catelyn around until she was breathless with laughter.

"Should I be jealous?" Brandon asked, knowing as well as Catelyn did that there was already a Lady Royce, one whose smile was nearly as big as her belly.

"Madly," she replied. "He has asked me to run away with him."

"I shall be all alone. It's a good thing I asked Lady Ashara for her hand."

"Lady Ashara?" Catelyn was not familiar with the name.

"Ashara Dayne. Sister of Ser Arthur. Ned has been unable to keep his eyes off her all night. He would content himself just looking, no doubt, if I hadn't taken matters in hand." He gestured across the room to where his brother and Lady Ashara danced.

When the dance called for a brief swirl with the man beside her, Catelyn was surprised to see that it was Petyr. She was further shocked when he refused to release her when it was time for her to return to her partner.

"Petyr!" She tried pulling away, but there was more strength in his small body than one would expect.

"My lord, I believe it is time for you to return my lady to me," Brandon said, looming over Petyr.

"Such a great lord as yourself can surely grant me such a small favor," Petyr said, in a less than courteous tone. "I only want this one dance."

Brandon grabbed Catelyn's arm. "I'm afraid not," he told Petyr. "I require my lady's attentions."

Petyr still had not relinquished his hold on Catelyn's other arm.

"It's not polite to steal another's dancing partner this way," Catelyn whispered to her friend. There was anger on Brandon's face and his hand had settled on the hilt of his sword. Catelyn was desperate to avoid a scene. "Petyr, please."

Finally Petyr let go of her. "Cat…"

"We'll speak later." She allowed Brandon to lead her away.

"That presumptuous little son of a…" Brandon bit off the vulgarity. "Who does he think he is."

"He feels a boy's affection for me. It's not important, my lord. Shall we go outside? I would like some fresh air."

They left the great hall of Harrenhal, and the cool spring night eventually eased Brandon's anger and Catelyn's worry. For the time being, Petyr Baelish was forgotten.


End file.
